Solitary
by CopperRua
Summary: Harley endures the wrath of the Joker who punishes her in a way more horrible than before.


This wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time she had come home to find the place in ruins. Picking through the broken plates which littered the kitchen, past the smashed glass which her softly treading feet pressed into the carpet of the sitting room, Harley made her way into the bedroom. She peered cautiously around the door. Phew. The coast was clear for now. Joker was definitely out, the lack of any further crashing and smashing indicated that, but he left a trail of destruction behind him. Sighing, Harley began to pick up her possessions which were scattered carelessly across the floor. The bed was unmade and something that looked suspiciously like her favourite body lotion was slathered across the smashed mirror where the bottle had been flung and burst. The hideout, it was fair to say, was a mess.

As she picked up her favourite pair of stockings to find them torn to shreds, she snapped. The mess could wait. Better still, _he_ could clean it up. Even as she thought it she knew it would never happen. Propping open a stiff window and placing her delicate frame on the ledge, Harley lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She sighed with contentment as the smoke pumped into her lungs and back out her mouth. She relished the feeling of something which was so bad for her feeling so good, then cringed at the obvious metaphor for her life. He had been calling her non stop since the botched robbery. For once it was not the robbery _she _ had botched, it was nobody's fault really, the safe was on a new timelock, what could they do? Well, what Mr J did was shoot a bunch of people and smash in the jewelry store displays. Still, they'd managed to take a few thousand dollars worth of loot, but she knew he was angry, she knew he didn't want to risk the bat showing up for just a couple of grand. And turn up he did. That was when they'd got separated, Bats always went for Mr J, Harley didn't take offence, he was the bigger fish to fry after all.

The buzzing of her phone jolted Harley from her reverie and she cursed as she flicked hot ash over herself. She didn't need to look at the caller ID. She knew it would be him. She knew he would be angry. She was afraid to ignore him, but even more afraid of what would happen if she answered. She let it ring through, determinedly staring out the window down to the grimy streets of the narrows below where dusk was setting in. As it vibrated one last time and finally stilled, Harley let out a sigh of relief. A few minutes less until she had to deal with the inevitable.

"Screening our calls now are we Harls?"

His voice came from the doorway and nearly stopped her heart. Turning around slowly, her wide eyes fearful, she stammered a response;

"M-Mistah J. Where'd you come from?"

He remained silent for a moment. Seemingly calm on the outside, but Harley could tell that inside, a storm was brewing. He began to walk towards her. Slow, purposeful steps.

"I'll tell you where I came from Harley, I just came all the way from the other side of the Narrows while being hunted like a fox by the Bat and Gotham's finest. A feat which would have been a lot easier to achieve had you bothered to answer your phone to me."

He reached where Harley sat frozen to the window sil. His long which fingers wrapped around her delicate throat and she gulped in anticipation of his punishment.

"P-please Mistah J", she choked. "I- I was being chased too. I only just got back".

"Oh really? That hardly comes as a surprise to me doll, because I was here not ten minutes ago and went back out, risking my neck, to find you. What do we think about that? Hmm?"

As his grip on her throat tightened, Harley could feel the panic rising within her chest.

"Please Mistah J, please boss, I'm sorry, I woulda answered if I'd known you were looking for me please, I just, I just needed some time to myself, please I was scared... don't hurt me Mistah J... please".

Even as she pleaded she knew it was no good. She had managed to avoid the worst of it, when the hideout had received the brunt of his temper, but now, now he was really mad, she could see behind his rising grin the pure rage in his eyes. The day had not gone according to plan for the Joker, and he was about to take it out on someone. With one swift movement, he hurled her across the room where she came into contact with the hard floor. The breath knocked out of her, Harley scrambled madly, wanting nothing but to get out of the way of the angry man intent on punishing her. She made it to the bathroom door before her legs were seized from behind and he began to drag her backwards. Screaming, Harley grabbed onto the side of the bathroom door, but her efforts were futile as the Joker's foot came crashing down on her fingers and she instantly let go, curling into a ball, whimpering in pain.

He flipped her onto her back and straddled her, the tell-tale clicking of a knife being opened made her shudder. For a moment, there was silence as she lay with her eyes tightly shut, shaking, too afraid to move.

"Haarley". His voice was soft and gentle. A hand stroked the side of her face and she opened her eyes, pleading silently with the man she loved as their eyes met.

"Tsk tsk Harls. What am I going to do with you?" His hand snaked around the back of her head and gripped a fistful of her hair tightly. "You see, I can't have you disobeying me like this".

"I know, I'm sorry, please, I-" Harley's pleading was cut short by a swift stinging slap to the face.

"And I simply can't have you speaking out of turn". Harley nodded, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. "This is most unlike you Harls, you've always been a good girl, but lately...I think I'm being to soft on you. What do you think?" Harley, her chest heaving with pain and emotion managed to force out only one word.

"Please".

For a moment, the Joker's expression seemed to soften as he looked down at the trembling girl beneath him. He sighed and folded his knife back into itself, pocketing it. For a moment, Harley dared to hope that he would be lenient. Then he spoke.

"I think perhaps, some time for reflection is in order." Standing up, he heaved Harley to her feet by her hair and dragged her from the room.

"Reflection". Harley knew what he meant by that. The guards in Arkham used it to make solitary sound less cruel. He was going to lock her up. In the dark. Alone. For God knows how long. Desperately, she began to struggle as he dragged her down the hall. Screaming, begging and pleading all the while.

"Harley this doesn't sound like someone who wants to be forgiven does it?" He shouted above her roars. As they reached the end of the hallway, he began to open the large metal door which had once been a freezer room. As he heaved it open, he dropped her at his feet. In panic she clung to his legs, her small frame quivering with fear. Looking down at her glued to her tormentors side, he gave a small chuckle and began to stroke her hair softly.

"Come now Harls, it's not so bad. I'm just trying to teach you that actions have consequences."

"Please Mistah J. Please. Anything, I'll do anything, just don't leave me in there all alone. Please don't make me". Harley's tone was desperate, she knew there was nothing she could say or do, pleading with the Joker didn't tend to work in your favour, even if you were his girlfriend. She turned her tear filled eyes up to him. His eyes were cold and unyielding. She knew she was going in. His fist tightened in her hair and he lifted her body from the floor so that her terrified face was before his sadistic grin.

"You'll go in. And you'll be lucky if you come out." Suddenly he flung her from him, her fragile body landing on the cold, hard floor. She turned around in time to see the last sliver of light leave as he locked the heavy metal door. His cackles of glee growing fainter as he moved down the hallway.

Sitting up, Harley began to assess her position. She wasn't bleeding as far as she could tell. Nothing was broken. It could have been worse. Curling up into a shivering ball, her body aching, she tried to remember that; it could have been worse. Lying there on the floor, beaten and bruised, all she could do was wait.


End file.
